


Put Your Head on My Shoulder

by wilsimp



Category: Don't Starve (Video Game)
Genre: Fluff, One sided at first, Other, Porn with Feelings, Smut, he basically saved your life, i find x reader fanfiction to be overly self indulgent but im letting myself have this one, i mean who wouldnt be touch starved in the constant, nonbinary reader because idk its hard to imagine the reader as having a gender when i dont, probably afab reader but still p masculine, reader is kinda angsty they feel like a burden yes i use writing to cope how did you know, simp reader, slow burn sorta, sort of oblivious reader, touch starved wilson, ur a simp, wet dreams, wilson is older than u but not by much, wilson is reserved, wilson is sexy doe, you wanna impress him
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-04-17
Updated: 2020-04-17
Packaged: 2021-03-02 02:47:19
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,406
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23697970
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wilsimp/pseuds/wilsimp
Summary: One day you wake up in hell. Wandering aimlessly, you stumble upon another victim of this harsh world and eventually you convince him to come with you. Maybe this could work, maybe your companion could make surviving here bearable. Life can’t be all bad, at least Wilson’s got your back.
Relationships: Wilson (Don't Starve)/Reader
Comments: 7
Kudos: 42





	1. Setting the scene

**Author's Note:**

> I started writing this almost a year ago. It was originally going to be a smutty oneshot but I ended up ditching it like 30 minutes in. Fast forward to now and I’ve decided to rework it. I’m a little invested now so I’ll probably continually add onto it. I’ve never really written fanfiction before be gentle w me,,

You survey Wilson from afar as he tends to his crops. Watching him struggle with the shovel, you can safely assume he’s not used to this sort of manual labor. Of course have to assume, with him still hesitant to talk about much of his life before the constant. All that you know about him really is that he was a scientist, quite isolated before being trapped here; an unsuccessful one at that; and still isolated wandering around this lonesome nightmare struggling to survive. 

Well, before you came along. In the beginning, you were pitiful; malnourished, weak, horrified, and he was empty, silent. Once you’d convinced him to team up with you and help you survive these conditions, it took weeks (you estimate, as there isn’t much of an extremely effective way to keep time in the constant other than keeping track by tally mark) for him to open up enough to talk for even a few minutes; Took even longer to learn anything slightly personal. He’d been alone for too long. 

Finally you’ve gotten him to be your partner in this cruel setting and It’s only a matter of time before he comes to terms with how touch starved he must be and- oh- well, you don’t know. The thought has absolutely never crossed your mind. Of course you don’t fantasize about Wilson being affectionate without you. Holding you, kissing you, allowing you to satisfy his needs- never. 

As you lose yourself in your thoughts, something snaps you back to reality; a bothersome spider had snuck up behind you. Over time, you and Wilson have neglected the rapidly increasing spider population and more than anything they’ve become a nuisance. Before you can pull out your spear Wilson has already arrived and slays the creature himself. Your hero. As he wipes the blood from his axe and slips it back into his piggyback, he teases “You need to be more careful, kid.” And shoots a lighthearted smirk. 

You yell back as he saunters off “hey! I’m not a kid! You’re only a few years older than me!”, yet receive no response from the smug gentleman. “At least I’m not an old man!!!” You pout and follow after him, clearly embarrassed and blushing.

Nowadays, it’s always Wilson saving you, never the other way around. Sometimes you find it funny but other times you feel like such a burden. You can’t help but think that maybe things would be easier for him without you here. He’s always caring for you, but he won’t let you in enough to care for him.


	2. Tonight, My Love, Tonight

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You and Wilson talk for a bit by the fire, and he opens up some about his past. You gain hope for the future.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This one’s a little longer, not much to say but ya! Enjoy <3

Later that evening, the soothing crackle of a newly kindled campfire provides a background for your and Wilson’s nightly chat. Wilson slips a morsel onto a twig and hovers it over the fire, arm slightly shaky. He seems unusually antsy, as if he has something he wants to talk about but doesn’t quite know how to effectively communicate it. You ask aloud, “You ok?” and scoot a bit closer to Wilson, resting your hand on the log next to his. 

“Yes of course! Of course.. just- just tired.” Wilson responds, resting his head on his shoulder, rubbing those weary, sunken eyes before returning that hand to the log next to his thigh. He lets out a small yawn, and you catch a glimpse of his open mouth. You wonder what it would be like to kiss that mouth. His lips seem so rough and weathered, but at the same time so soft. You’d never paid such close attention to his features before, or rather been given much a chance to; He’s constantly moving, covering his face, or looking away, but not right now. 

It’s almost as if he’s personally allowing you to observe him, leaving himself vulnerable and open to your unrelenting gaze. You take the opportunity that’s presented to you to slowly and carefully study every inch of his hunched frame. His frizzy, raven curls; the way the moonlight dances on his tan, olive skin, and the warmth of the fire being reflected in his deep, brown eyes. His eyelashes are delicate, and allow him to appear softer. While the stubble creeping its way around his mouth counters and adds a much more rugged affect to his rather delicate being; and you can’t help but imagine the way that stubble would feel against your face.

Sweat pools on his brow and he begins to fidget, pulling at the log’s bark with his unoccupied hand. Though he’d been watching it the entire time, Wilson managed to burn his morsel on the fire; perhaps he was distracted. He hadn’t been surveying you directly, but he could feel your eyes on his person as the eyes of a hawk focus on its prey. You’d be lying if you said you didn’t want to pounce and ravage him right now. A blush creeps onto your face, hidden in the dim lighting of the campfire, and you build up a bit of courage to ask quite a personal question.

“Did you ever have a relationship before coming here? A romantic one? I mean, I know you were alone a lot before this but...” you trail off, and he looks at you, seemingly caught off guard. 

Wilson’s face flushes and he struggles to find an answer, but quickly stammers out “I- well- That’s a tough question”, chuckles nervously and looks away, gently moving his hand that was resting on the log to twirl a dark curl around his finger.

Your heartbeat quickens, you begin regretting even asking. That was such a stupid question. “You don’t have to answer if you don’t want to”, You reassure him, as your heart squeezes in your chest and in your mind you’re silently begging for him to ignore what you just said. Please answer. Please. Just let me in. 

“It’s just that there’s not much to say! I never really had anything special, per se. I’ve always kept to myself and focused predominantly on my work. I didn’t feel the need to pursue anything social, let alone a steady relationship. It felt so unnecessary.", he gives you a nervous smile and lifts his hand to rub the back of his neck, "To be honest, I don’t really think of myself as much of a romantic” 

Your heart drops. You didn’t know what answer you expected or even wanted but it wasn’t that. He doesn’t care about romance. He doesn’t care about you. You’re just surviving here, why did you think it was anything more? You’re just trying to survive. “Oh, okay”, you choke the words out, trying to hide the disappointment in your voice. You feel your throat tighten and a burn in your chest like you may start to cry at any moment, but then he speaks again.

“But you never know,” he looks up at you and gives a gentle smile, one that makes your heart melt. "maybe I just never met the right person!"

A firework show shoots off and explodes behind your eyes. God he's so pretty. He's so sweet.

After about an hour of talking and eating, Wilson sits up straight, running a hand through his thick dark hair. “Well, I should be off. Got to get some sleep if I want to wake up at a decent hour.” He stands, brushing off his pants with his hands. Wilson stretches and yawns, his shirt pulling up a bit and you catch a glimpse of his stomach. “It’s getting late, so you should probably get some rest as well.” He gives you a caring look before heading off to his respective tent.

You sit at the fire a bit longer, watching the final embers finally die out, until you’re left alone sitting there with only the starlight to guide you back to your own tent.

Later that night, as you drift off, thoughts of him rush back into your mind. The only way you can even fall asleep anymore is by imagining his lithe, albeit muscular, frame enveloping you; His nimble fingers tracing intricate cirlces across the skin of your back; That beautiful inky black hair tickling the back of your neck as you nod off to sleep, feeling content and safe with his long and limber arms wrapped around your smaller figure. Much to your dismay, it's only a fantasy. Eventually everything fades as you doze off nonetheless. The hope that it could be more than a fantasy keeps you going.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just realized the reader would probably die if the fire went out but it’s fine ignore that lmao,,,


End file.
